


The Horror and the Wild

by Cinno_Angel



Category: Norse Religion & Lore, Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Almost porn, Alternate Universe, Druids, Jaskier has magic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:15:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22729750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinno_Angel/pseuds/Cinno_Angel
Summary: It started at a tavern when Geralt was handed a drink that smelled just a bit of lilac and gooseberries.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 4
Kudos: 121





	The Horror and the Wild

**Author's Note:**

> So this was originally supposed to be porn without plot. And then I gave up on writing the part where things get steamy and just used magic time skip powers. So the ending sucks. But whatever. This is just supposed to be a little silly idea based off of a video of Joey's band. The Horror and the Wild/Marbles. They reminded me of druids, or magic users of some kind.

Geralt really didn’t know why he was the one that was dragged into this mess. Though he supposed he wasn't the only one. There were about a dozen others, all tied up on horses like he was. He guessed that they had also been drugged. He should've known better than to trust the scent of lilac and gooseberries that had been in his ale. Most of them were panicked and frightened, but there were a few that were oddly calm. Those few leaned against the captor they rode with, smiles on their faces. This was concerning. Plus the fact that none of them that had been captured had shirts on. 

Their captors stopped when the glow of a bonfire came into view. Fuck. Was this some sort of coven? It was Belleteyn so he wouldn’t be surprised. It could also be a cult. These people were going to die. He had to get free before anyone died.

The one who had kidnapped him, a woman, was kind enough to actually help him down from the horse. He could probably get the jump on them now but acting without knowing wouldn’t lead to good things. Vesemir had taught him that. The woman led him over to the fire. He and the others were sat in an outer ring. The cult members or whoever were dancing around the fire. Some of those that had brought them stayed back with them. 

“Relax. There is no need to fear us. Your aid will be rewarded greatly by our god and goddesses,” The woman said as if to try and reassure him. It of course did nothing to reassure him. This was starting to sound more like a cult. She joined the other members and began chanting with them. 

“To Gersemi! To Hnoss! To Od! To Freya!” The members chanted. And that was when Geralt realized that this wasn’t a cult, or a coven. This was a druid circle. His amulet hummed stronger against his chest than it had before. “Banish those that have hurt us! Welcome those here for love!” A few members began walking around the circle of those who had been captured, pouring ink on their shoulders. He pushed back, but the druid just helped him back into a sitting position before putting inks on his shoulders. He honestly didn’t understand what was going on. 

The beat of a drum, rumbling and powerful began to play. “Fehu, uruz, thurisaz, ansuz, raido, kaunaz, gifu, wunjo.” The words carried across the air as Geralt’s skin began to itch. He looked down and watched as the ink began to spread across his torso and arms, forming strange symbols, runes he’d never seen before. The words were repeated, faster and faster, a migraine piercing Geralt’s mind. And then all fell silent except for the sacred breathing of those around him who knew no more than he did. 

Children peaked out from the shadows as two figures emerged from tents that Geralt could make out if he squinted. A man and a woman approached the bonfire. The man was carrying a strange instrument that looked like a lute, but it was no lute Geralt had ever seen. The man counted before he began to play. 

The sound was deeper and richer than the drums. The woman began to sing, her voice not unlike a siren’s, but it didn’t hold the same power a siren’s would. The man’s voice was full of power as well. Symbols and lines drawn on their faces were lit by the glow of the bonfire. There were two songs sung, that matched in a way what the druids had chanted for earlier. And there was something too familiar about the man’s voice. 

“You were raised by wolves and voices

Every night I hear them howling

Deep beneath your bed they said:

"It all comes down to you"

You're the daughter of silent watching stones

You watch the stars hurl all their fundaments in wonderment

At you and more, forever asking more 

You are the space that's in-between

Every page, every chord and every screen

You are the driftwood and the rift

You're the words that I promise I don't mean

We're drunk but drinking. Sunk but sinking

You thought us blind? We were just blinking

All the stones and kings of old

Will hear us screaming at the cold 

Remember me I ask

Remember me I sing

Give me back my heart you wingless (thing) 

Think of all the horrors that I promised you I'd bring

I promised you they'll sing of every time

You passed your fingers through my hair and called me child

Witness me, old man, I am the wild 

You are the son of every dressing up box

And I am time itself

I slow to let you play

I steal the hours and turn the nights into

Day by day oh lord three things I pray

That I might understand as best I can

How bold I was, could be, will be, still am

By god, still am!

Fret not dear heart

Let not them hear

The mutterings of all your fears

The flutterings of all your wings

Welcome to the storm!

I am thunder!

Welcome to my table, bring your hunger

Think of all the horrors that I promised you I'd bring

I promised you they'll sing of every time

You passed your fingers through my hair and called me child

Witness me, old man, I am the wild

Remember me

Remember me

Remember me!

Remember me I ask

Remember me I sing

Think of all the horrors that I promised you I'd bring

I promised you they'll sing of every time

You passed your fingers through my hair and called me child

Witness me, old man, I am the...

Think of all the horrors that I promised you I'd bring

I promised you they'll sing of every time

You passed your fingers through my hair and called me child

Witness me, old man, old man, I am the…

(*insert Marbles because I can’t find the lyrics*)”

The druids began clapping as the man bowed before speaking, “A good year will be upon us! Let our god and goddesses bless those who wish with fertility, wealth, and magic! And blessings to those who join us this Belleteyn! Let the ritual begin!” 

The druids moved to a circle outside of those they’d captured and began dancing, chanting in some language foreign to Geralt. Really, these druids were just so unfamiliar to Geralt. Save for that man who was all too familiar. A young girl ran into the circle. She couldn’t have been any older than Ciri. And then she jumped the fire, the flames licking at her ankles but not burning her. When she landed she looked up at the man who had sung and he gave her a white lily from a basket with a smile. She beamed and ran back to the shadows. 

Other druids began to come forward and jump over the fire. Each was given a flower, and the adults started giving the flowers to those that had been captured. One by one till Geralt was the last. He furrowed his brows, wondering what was going to happen. All the druids were still there, but the only ones who hadn’t picked someone were the children and the two who had sung. 

The beating of drums picked up as the woman took the basket of flowers from the man. He looked towards the bonfire and took a few steps back before running at the fire. The flames leapt into the air the same moment that he did, wrapping around him in a blanket of fire.  He landed with wide eyes, perfectly unharmed. There were gasps and whispers from the other druids.

The woman raised her hand. “Freya has spoken. A new leader has been chosen and a child has been promised!” She announced. She approached the man and held out a blue rose to him. He stared up at her and she just nodded. He took the flower with shaking hands and slowly stood up. 

He didn’t move for a moment but then approached Geralt. He dropped to one knee in front of Geralt and untied the ropes around Geralt’s hand. Geralt had every right mind to use this to escape but something tugged at him to not. He looked at the man’s face carefully, looking past the paint and the heavy stench of magic. And he knew without a shadow of a doubt who this was. “Jas-”

The bard pressed a finger to Geralt’s lips and shook his head ever so slightly. Jaskier held out the blue rose to him. “Will you have me tonight?” He asked, like the rest of the druids had done with the others. 

Geralt was hesitant. He didn’t know what he was getting into, but it was just Jaskier. How much harm could the bard do? So he took the rose with a nod. Jaskier let out a sigh of relief and stood, holding out a hand to Geralt. Geralt took his hand and let him lead him over to one of the tents. The other druids were dispersing at that moment as well. 

Once inside a tent Geralt immediately knew had to be Jaskier’s because of the very familiar lute inside, he began baraging the bard with questions. “A druid's circle Jaskier? How the fuck did you get mixed up in a druid’s circle? And what is all of this about? Kidnapping people for some kind of ritual? Jumping through bonfires? Worshipping Freya and those other three?”

Jaskier chewed on his bottom lip as he lit candles. He clenched his fists slightly before snapping at Geralt. “I will not have you judging me or my people! I am the leader now so it is my responsibility to protect them so if you are going to judge us and try to hurt us then I will gladly escort you out of the forest right now.”

Geralt wasn’t surprised that Jaskier stood up to him, but at the same time he was. Geralt sighed and crossed his arms. “Then explain everything to me,” He said. Jaskier nodded and motioned for Geralt to sit on a pile of blankets. Geralt only did so after Jaskier had sat down.

“It’s a long story I suppose. I’ve been a druid for, oh, over four hundred years now,” Jaskier started. Geralt looked very shocked but Jaskier just gave him a look and continued. “We’re not the same as the druids you’re familiar with. We’re actually known as seiðkonur and seiðmenn respectively. But as our magic is tied to nature, we are also in essence druids. Freya and her family just happen to be the deities that our circle worship. As for the ritual… well it is Belleteyn and Freya is love, fertility, and…”

Geralt’s eye twitched as very explicit sounds reached his witcher ears. “You kidnap people to have sex with them? Is that what these symbols are? They’re supposed to make me compliant so whoever picked me could have as much sex as they wanted?”

“No!” Jaskier protested, “Yes, we kidnap people, it's a very old tradition from even before I became a seiðmenn. And we do tend to have sex with the people brought to our circle, but nothing is done without real consent! These runes are blessings. Prosperity, strength, blessings of course, life, illumination, generosity, and balance. It's our way of giving to those who we kidnapped, giving them a part of what we would receive.”

Geralt frowned slightly. If Jaskier was telling the truth then it could make sense. That didn’t mean he agreed with this. But as long as no one was being hurt he saw no reason to do anything to the circle. “So what about the ritual and leaping over the fire? Something big happened when you did it.”

Jaskier sighed, playing with the corner of one of the blankets. “We leap over the fire to see what our goddess Freya will bless us with each year. Sometimes she’ll also give messages, like choosing me as leader. Though I have no idea why. The flowers indicate things related to the blessings. I had no idea of what was going on until I was jumping through the flames, Freya was using me as her messenger. That’s the first part. The second part is well, going back to our primal natures and giving to our goddess. It also strengthens our magic as seidr is by nature, sex magic. But please don’t feel like you’re forced to have sex with me or any of the others. I mean, everyone else has their partners, and I know for a fact I will have to officiate a few weddings tomorrow, which will be draining, but if I spend the night mastrubating then it won’t be that bad-”

Geralt covered Jaskier’s mouth with his hand to get the bard to shut up. He needed to think about this. The more Jaskier explained the more normal this seemed. These druids were just doing what was tradition for them and what was in their nature. Were there some parts that were morally questionable, yes, but nobody seemed to be getting hurt. There were just two more questions Geralt had. “What does the blue rose mean? The one you gave me.”

“Oh, well…” Jaskier trailed off. He was quiet for a moment, having to find the right words. “Blue roses mean… that… I can’t have you but I can’t stop thinking about you. The ultimate unrequited love call out, especially when chosen by Freya.” 

Now this was a development that surprised Geralt. He hadn’t realized that Jaskier liked him, but now that he thought about it it made a lot of sense. “Jaskier, if you had feelings for me you should have just said something.”

“But you have Yennefer. Your destinies are probably intertwined or something. I’m just Jaskier. And now you have even less of a reason to want to be with me because I didn’t tell you I was a druid,” Jaskier countered. 

Geralt sighed. “You clearly had your reasons not to tell me that you were a druid. But even if Yen and I have intertwined destinies that doesn’t mean I can’t love anyone else. You’ve grown on me you annoying asshole.” Geralt lightly punched Jaskier in the arm. “But I think it may be a little too late. That other woman, she said you were promised a child, and even if you or I could carry a child, I’m infertile. I don’t want to take away what you’ve been promised.

Jaskier stared at Geralt for a moment before bursting into laughter. Geralt looked at him confused. “I am dreadfully sorry, but that is what you are hung up about? I have been over here fretting that I wouldn’t get the chance to love you for at least one night and you were here thinking that I would care if you were infertile or not? Geralt, my goddess’s domains are sex, and love, and magic and a lot more if I am being honest. No matter in what form, she will fulfill her promise. Now, get over yourself and kiss me you fool.”

Geralt smirked. Well, since Jaskier had demanded…. Geralt pulled the bard into his lap and kissed him, hard and passionate. Jaskier kissed him back with the same fervor, letting out a groan. “Oh goddess have mercy on me,” Jaskier mumbled, “If I had known you were this good at just kissing I would have kidnapped you personally, years ago.”

Geralt grunted and kissed Jaskier again to keep him quiet. He pushed Jaskier back on the pile of blankets. He wondered if these blankets were specifically for rituals or whatever this was, or if these were normal. If it was the latter he was going to steal some. They were warm, and soft unlike anything Geralt had ever felt before. 

Geralt went to pull off Jaskier’s shirt when the bard stopped him. “Let me,” Jaskier said before mumbling something that Geralt couldn’t understand. Suddenly their clothes were gone. Jaskier was covered in a lot more paint than Geralt had initially thought, but he didn’t mind. He was very much still covered in the… runes Jaskier had called them. At least Jaskier had left him with his amulet. 

“In case you are wondering,” Jaskier spoke up with a smirk, “We may have had a hand in why mages can do this. Not that that matters. Oh-oh boy, no. You are gorgeous. I mean, I’ve seen you naked before, but this is so different. I will have to write a song about you.” Jaskier ran his hands across Geralt’s abs. 

“You talk too much,” Geralt grunted. He buried his face into Jaskier’s neck and bit gently at the soft skin, earning delighted noises in return. Jaskier ran his hands across Geralt’s back. Jaskier’s finger pads weren’t soft but they weren’t rough either. They were firm and Geralt found that he enjoyed that feeling quite a bit.

Geralt pressed his lips against Jaskier's and was enjoying the bard squirming underneath him when suddenly he was the one on his back. He was about to say something when Jaskier pressed a finger to his lips. 

"Magic. You're taking too long. I do apologise, but I don't have the patience right now for teasing," Jaskier said. He reached over Geralt and grabbed a bottle. Geralt groaned as Jaskier covered his cock in cool liquid from the bottle. He assumed it was some kind of lubricant. He wrapped his arms around the bard, pulling him down for a kiss as Jaskier ground against him. But the kiss didn't last long as Jaskier clearly had other plans. A night with little preperation and a lot of fucking. 

Geralt learned a few things throughout the night. One was that Jaskier had more stamina than even he did. That may have been a magical thing, but it was fascinating. And exhausting. Another was that Jaskier was impossible. He had known that in a sense before but now it was even more true. By the time Jaskier was ready to pass out, all other noises having died out long before, his magic crackled through the air like a storm.

Geralt ran a hand through Jaskier’s soft brown hair, listening to the slow breathing of the sleeping bard. He could feel the way his magic hesitated around Jaskier while the other’s leapt between them in a dance. It was far different than being around Yennefer. Geralt didn’t know where this would lead, but he could say for certain that there was no one like Jaskier, and he didn’t want anyone like Jaskier. 

_ And I will wait and hope _

_ And I will rest my head tonight, content _

_ Knowing where my marbles went _


End file.
